


Come Hell or High Water

by emynn (orphan_account)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Quidditch, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-30
Updated: 2013-04-30
Packaged: 2017-12-09 23:43:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/779332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/emynn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All couples have those days...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Hell or High Water

Shaking his head in yet another attempt to focus on the task ahead of him, Harry soared high above the rest of his teammates, searching for the blasted Snitch. This was, by far, his worst Quidditch match of the season, and it had already gone on for far too long. Normally he was able to cast aside all his worries and cares when he got up in the air, but today it seemed impossible. He was distracted, restless, and nervous… and the rain pouring down in buckets certainly didn’t help the matter.

He and Severus had argued that morning. That in and of itself wasn’t all that unusual; they were two stubborn, fiery individuals, and were prone to the occasional screaming match and more than the occasional bickering. But this row seemed more brutal somehow. Whereas usually their angry shouts turned into passionate kisses and then truly fantastic makeup sex, this one left Harry feeling raw, exposed, and completely vulnerable. His entire body ached with the weight of it.

And it was all so utterly _stupid._ Harry couldn’t even entirely remember how the argument had started – something like Harry failing to pick his shirt off the floor or something else entirely stupid like that – and he couldn’t remember how it had somehow escalated from good-natured snarking to an all-out explosion. But he _could_ remember their screams, the insults they hurled at each other, and the absolute vitriol in both of their voices. It was all too reminiscent of those days when they truly _did_ hate each other, and it rattled Harry to his core. 

And then Severus, in that snide, condescending voice had shouted at him to “get the fuck out of my house and go to your bloody Quidditch match.” Harry had wasted no time in gathering his broom and rucksack, all the while cursing and calling Severus every name under the sun.

But then he’d turned around and seen Severus sitting on the couch, his head in his hands, looking so damn exhausted and shaken and _shattered_ , and the fire in Harry’s belly had been rapidly extinguished.

Of course, then Severus had noticed Harry looking at him and forced him out the door with an angry gust of wind.

Harry shook his head, trying once again to clear his thoughts. Damn, if he could just find that bloody Snitch he could get home and try to sort all this out. He couldn’t help but think each passing hour of this blasted match was giving Severus even more time to brood and do something stupid, like deciding their argument was proof they were entirely incompatible and end up moving to Bulgaria or some other far-off country without so much as a backwards glance at Harry.

A sudden flash of gold caught Harry’s eye, and he sped after it. Fortunately the other team’s Seeker didn’t appear to see it. Harry desperately wanted to end the match, but he wasn’t certain he had the energy in him for a frantic fight to the finish. Accelerating as much as he dared in the storm, he extended his arm, thrilled and relieved when he felt his hand close around the Snitch.

He didn’t even bother waiting for the rest of his team to realise the match was over before hurriedly descending to the ground. He knew Coach Pertwee would want to have an unnecessarily long conversation with him about his subpar performance today, and he simply didn’t have time for that. Hell, there was nothing even in the locker room that was all _that_ important to grab from the locker room. He’d come back in the morning for his change of clothes, then…

“Congratulations on your win.”

“Thanks…Severus! What are you doing here?”

Severus, shielded from the elements by a large black umbrella, held out a heavy blanket. Harry took it gratefully, immediately recognising it as the water-repellent, ever-warming blanket Severus had given him for Christmas two years ago. He draped it over his shoulders, pulling it close around him, and waited for Severus’ reply.

“I told you I’d be at all of your matches,” Severus said neutrally. “The weather, while not ideal, is certainly better than that blizzard you played in last January.”

“But… that fight.”

Severus moved so that the umbrella also covered Harry, and wrapped an arm around his waist. “I might have been angry with you. That doesn’t mean I stopped loving you.”

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. “So you’re not cross with me anymore?”

“Well, I can’t say that,” Severus said. “That _was_ one of our worst arguments in recent history, was it not?”

“Yeah,” Harry admitted. “It was.”

“But I’m willing to wager that after we get you home, have some tea, and then get into bed, most, if not all, of those lingering feelings of irritation and unease will have disappeared.” Severus hooked a finger under Harry’s chin, forcing him to meet his eyes. “Would you agree?”

“Oh, yes,” Harry said. “Severus, I’m so sorry. I don’t even know why I said all of those things.”

“I’m not entirely blameless myself,” Severus said. “I was already in a foul mood, and I took it out on you.”

“How could you have been in a bad mood already?” Harry asked, frowning. “You’d just woken up.”

“And?” Severus asked, a wry smile upon his lips.

“Point,” Harry admitted, and rested his head on Severus’ shoulder. “Thank you for coming. I know you don’t particularly love attending Quidditch matches, and it couldn’t have been easy sitting out there in the rain when you secretly wanted to string me up by my intestines.”

“When you think about what is important, it’s far easier than you might think,” Severus said.

Harry felt his heart skip a beat, the way it always did whenever Severus vocalised how he felt about Harry. It never bothered Harry that Severus wasn’t one for pretty words; he found plenty of other ways to show his devotion. And besides, it made those rare moments when he did just that much more breathtaking. He leaned up and kissed Severus, thrilling to feel the warmth of his lips moving against his own.

“I love you,” Harry said once they had parted. “I don’t want to fight over anything as stupid as dirty laundry again.”

Severus frowned. “I believe the disagreement began over you using enough water during your shower to drain the North Sea.”

“You can’t be serious!” Harry exclaimed. “I was in there for ten minutes, fifteen tops. There was plenty of hot water left for you.”

“I distinctly heard you sing ‘Do the Hippogriff’ in its entirety seven times, which would indicate the shower lasted at least twenty-eight minutes.”

“Listen, you –”

“Potter! Why weren’t you in the locker room? We need to discuss your performance today, as well as the possibility of getting you some new spectacles since you didn’t notice the Snitch right under your nose for nearly four hours.”

“Sorry, Coach Pertwee,” Harry said quickly, seizing Severus’ hand. “Bit of a family emergency. I’ll be here bright and early at practice tomorrow.” Severus squeezed his hand, a touch too hard, and Harry yelped. “Or perhaps not too early. You know. Family emergency and all.” And then, ignoring Pertwee’s sputtering, Harry quickly Disapparated both of them back to their home.

“Family emergency, is this?” Severus asked, closing his umbrella. 

“Yes,” Harry said. “Since you clearly seem to be losing your mind, or at least your memory. Definitely important I saw to that immediately.”

“Is that so?” Severus said. “And how exactly do you intend to _see_ to it?”

Harry threw off the blanket and moved closer to Severus, pulling him flush against his body. “By reminding you just how important you are to me, no matter what stupid thing I say or do. Because in the end… it’s just you and me. Nothing’s going to change that.”

“Quite right,” Severus said, his gaze heated. He leaned down and kissed Harry fiercely. There might have still been some traces of anger there, but Harry revelled in the familiar feelings of possessiveness, passion, and, yes, love.

“I believe you mentioned something about tea and bed,” Harry said a bit breathlessly once Severus released him.

“I’m willing to forego the tea for the moment,” Severus said, squeezing Harry’s bum.

Harry grinned. “Excellent,” he said, and, grabbing Severus’ hand, tugged him towards the stairs. 

It wasn’t perfect, this relationship that they had. Harry knew this likely was not the last fight they’d ever have, and there might even be some worse ones down the road. Truthfully, he couldn’t entirely blame his friends for marvelling at how he and Severus hadn’t killed each other yet. Sometimes he wondered at it himself.

But they held onto what was important, and for that reason alone, Harry knew there was no limit to their futures together. Come stormy days or t-shirts wrinkling on the floor, they would always be there for each other. 

And that was all Harry could ever ask for.


End file.
